The Art Of Being a Weirdo (When It Comes To Her)

 

As the author says, “I plan a lot how to greet, the body posture, the smile, the series of conversations, and a lot.... but when she is there, this all makes no sense, heart stops pumping blood, Brain stops braining, just as weird as I portrayed as a weirdo in front of her,,,”

 

Scene 1: The Words That Trip

The library smells faintly of old paper and coffee. A ceiling fan hums lazily overhead, turning the afternoon heat into a slow breeze.

With everyone else, my sentences flow like a well-argued legal submission

-        clear, precise, untangled.

I was there, sitting alone, reading a fiction in the cover of M.P. Jain

For a moment, I saw her coming towards me, a racing heartbeat

She steps in, sunlight spilling over her shoulder like she’s bringing a piece of the outside world with her.

But the moment she appears, the script in my head crumbles like badly folded paper.

I look up from my book, catch her eyes for a second too long, and somehow say,

"You… uh… coffee? maybe?" ☕

It’s clumsy.

It's a situation like where an expert loses his expertise, a coach his experience

And all those unexpected and unimagined doings and circumstances…

But she laughs, not at the words, but at how my confidence melts into soft stutters around her.

And in that laugh, I hear something that makes my awkwardness worth it.

 

Scene 2: The Extra Attention to Nothing

The classroom window lets in a thin shaft of light, dust particles drifting lazily inside it.

I am that, just another guy in the crowd…

I’m not the kind of person who remembers outfits or accessories.

But with her… I remember the maroon dupatta from last Tuesday 🌹,

the exact shade of her nail paint, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear just before answering a question in class.

As the author says, “I’ve never been a ‘detail collector’ in life. But for her, I notice every frame, every flicker, not because I want to, but because my eyes refuse to let go.”

Of course, I am not a stalker in that sense,

But for her, yes, I’m…Something else

I pretend not to notice, but my silence is loud.

Some details you don’t just see, you keep.

 

Scene 3: The Wrong Jokes at the Right Time

The canteen buzzes with the usual chatter, clinking cups, the occasional burst of laughter from another table.

I’ve never been the class clown, but with her, something changes.

I start throwing random, borderline terrible jokes into conversations,

the kind that have no setup or punchline.

As the author says, “Humour was never my weapon. But around her, I become this accidental jester, not because I want her to laugh at the joke, but because I want to see her laugh… period.”

She still laughs, something that I want to admire about her,

the kind of laugh that creases her eyes and makes her forget anyone else is in the room. Maybe the joke isn’t the point.

Maybe it’s the fact that her smile feels like a reward. 😌

 

Scene 4: The Staring Problem

Eye contact has always been easy for me, except with her.

With her, it’s either too much or not at all, like my gaze is caught between admiration and shyness.

She probably notices.

It’s like I just want to portray all her moments, people call it staring, I call it love…he kind that tries to memorise someone in real time.

In fact, I think she waits for it sometimes.

Once, she caught me looking. I looked away, pretending to check my watch or my phone, but the smile on her face told me she knew exactly what I was doing. ⏳

She knows me better than anyone in the room, even me..

 

Scene 5: The Things I’d Never Say

I don’t talk about the moon 🌙, about fate, or about the kind of questions that feel stolen from poetry. But with her, I hear myself ask,

"Do you think some people meet in every lifetime?"

She tilts her head, thinks for a second, then says,

"Maybe. But only the weird ones find each other every time."

And in that moment, I realise I’m not a weirdo to the world, I’m only a weirdo to her. And maybe that’s the best kind to be.

 

 

---- Raj Patel

Maybe still Stalking herrr,,,,,,